The Will - Part Six free porn video

Jim slept like a baby, a female baby. After all the training, the courses, the frustrations, the surgeries, the trials and the errors; the tiredness of the mortal body, male or female, was allowed to rest for the night before my final transformation. The exquisite bondage of my newly formed breasts within the silks and satins of my first long line bra was the best sleeping pill that nature could furnish. I stepped into a hospital sleeping gown, a pink one this time, and allowed the folds to fall languidly over my new buns and hips. The bodice of the gown expertly encased and glorified my my satin stretching boobs. I had a hard time keeping my eager fingers from tweaking the super sensitive nipples that poked sexily thru the layers of the bra and the gown. Mother tucked her son, Jim, delicately into bed. All the while Jim could not take his cupped hands down from his new femininity. As Mother lightly kissed me on the forehead, I pinched each nipple hard. The sensuous piles each quivered at my touch. With one last gasp of energy, my tits strained mightily to be freed. Hyper sensitive nipples guarded closely by the soft satin of my cups. Then the exhaustion was complete. I slept, knowing that the morrow would bring womanly delights which were at last to be allowed to me. I awoke after a night of extremely pleasant dreams. As my eyes slowly opened, quickly it came to me that I was wearing a longline bra. My longline bra. The feeling was electric. I was about to bolt upright and explore the magnificent garment which controlled my boobs, My Boobs!, when out of the corner of my eye a figure in pink satin drifted to the windows. "Good Morning, Miss Wendy! It is a lovely day today. Rise and shine. Oh wait, let me get your high heel mules. You mustn't let your feet touch the floor without your lovely high heels. It's in the rules!" Before I could question this beautiful apparition, Mother burst through the bedroom doors. "Oh dear! I was hoping to be here first so I could introduce you to your new Ladies Maid. "Wendy, this is Grace. I have hired her to attend to every feminine need and desire you may have in these next 18 months. She is a qualified hairdresser and beautician and the best all round Ladies Maid in America. I am sure you two will get on just fine. "Grace, would you prepare Miss Wendy's bath? Thank you." "Well, my DAUGHTER, I hope you slept well. There is so much to get started on today. Now remember, high heels at all time except in the tub. As soon as you are dry, it's right back into a suitable bra and make sure your lipstick is on straight. All a must for you from now on. "Did you enjoy sleeping in that longline? You looked divine! Again, maybe not that longline bra, but some bra must be worn while sleeping. And just think, starting tonight you will be sleeping with your hair in rollers. You are going to have a lot to get used to. That is why I surprised you with Grace. She will be a tremendous help to my new daughter. "Now, hurry to your bath. Grace will help you. Grace know what will be best for you to wear today. And she will help you with a light makeup and a simple hairstyle, just to get you to the Salon. After that? You will be a new woman. As the hurricane she is, she bounced from my boudoir before I could say word. My feet found the pink satin mules and I took my first steps in heels, tottering to the wonderfully scented warm water which awaited me. With a Ladies Maid, no less! I made it to the tub and there was Grace to relieve me of my gown and then deft gentle fingers pried the hooks from the eyes on my long line bra, and just like that, my brand new D girls were free. I couldn't help myself as my hand flew to those excited nipples. I think I might be going to be spending a great deal of time with those nipples. I glanced in the mirror and a smile crossed my lips as I realized the lovely size of the womanly areoles surrounding my extremely erect female pleasure buds. Now that says WOMAN! Free from all garments, I lowered, with Grace's help, my new body into the scented bubble bath which Grace had prepared for me. I could get used to this. When my body lowered enough for the suds to caress my breasts, the sensation was heavenly. I was unused to the experience of my breasts actually floating upon the silky warm water. I washed myself with what I knew to be a beauty bar of the finest soap. I paid particular attention to washing the mammary glands which I had never had before. They were quite large but now offensively so. The doctor had done his job correctly. They were large but not too large. Just right for my physique. My new womanly physique. After I had played with my new toys and thoroughly cleaned my redundant male apparatus, Grace helped be out of the tub and into a huge fluffy towel and back into the pink satin mules. My trip back to the boudoir was a little more confident. Grace had all ready for my first full day as a woman. Since the first item on the schedule was my trip to the beauty salon for the first time as a woman, full makeup wasn't going to be required. Nor was I to worry about being the height of fashion. Grace had laid out simple clothing. Naturally to fulfill the terms of the will, I had to have a proper panty girdle and my "girls" had to have the support they deserved. I slipped into a matched set of silk panties and Wonder Bra. A lovely coral color. Then the panty girdle, which had quite an effect on my newly enhanced rump and hips. A pair of suntan colored thigh highs with elastic tops found their way onto my willing legs. Next a white silk half slip and then into the cream colored rayon pleated skirt which came just to the top of my knees. Lastly, a loose, flowing, sheer pale pink, scoop necked with ruffles at the neck line, peasant blouse with long full billowy sleeves which ended in formal cuffs, each with five tiny mother of pearl buttons. The lovely blouse fell perfectly over my bra with just the right amount of perkiness poking through. Grace slipped white, straw, open toed escadrilles of the proper height onto my waiting feet. I was almost ready for my first day as a woman. Grace led me to the makeup station. Since I was heading to the beauty salon, there was no need for full makeup or extensive hair styling. Grace brushed my hair back into a high bouncy pony tail and with the help of a curling iron, a cute flippy curl was installed at the end of the pony tail. A quick shot of hair spray achieved the desired holding effect. The ponytail was held in place by a coral ruffled scrunchie. So cute! Minimal makeup. Just a swipe of mascara to each eye and an application of a soft coral lipstick to match my scrunchie and my coral bra which was easily seen through the sheer ruffles of my blouse. I stood up from the makeup station and with Grace steadying me on the new heels, I walked to one of the full length mirrors in the boudoir. All during my training time, in the beauty school, at Mistress Melissa's Sissy Academy, at home with Mother, I had never been allowed to experience the femininity which I was learning at every minute. Oh how frustrated I had been. Seeing my work leave the chair at Beauty School, seeing my victims being painted and corseted at the Sissy Academy, and seeing my Mother being herself, all the time not being allowed to paint or curl or girdle myself. According to the terms of The Will, I was to learn all there is to learn about femininity while not partaking of those joys myself. This was to instill into me a tremendous desire, an almost painful desire, for my own coming initiation into the rituals and benefits and pains of being a woman. My manhood was still there. Another term of The Will. Until I had fulfilled al the terms of The Will, I would constantly have the reminder, hanging useless over my Sissy Vagina, of what I had been and of what I wanted to be rid of forever. My penis, which really had been a joy when I was a man, now meant nothing to me, other than something to get out of the way of soft silky female under garments. It was nothing to me. Only to be used in these coming months when the circumstances dictated that it be employed to service or pleasure some future male or female sex partner. That was also spelled out in The Will. I think I might enjoy all those circumstances. But for now Junior Woodchuck was packed away, deep inside whatever constricting girdle or corset I was to wear that day. But, I digress. Grace smiled at me and I knew that I was ready to show the new Wendy to the world. Mother was in the kitchen, savoring a deep, rich, brown coffee as it passed through her flawlessly painted crimson lips. Her lipstick gave me wonderful female feelings. I would have to ask her what shade she was wearing. I know it would look ravishing on me. Might even help me to get to some of those "circumstances". "Oh, my darling Wendy! You look so divine. Quite fresh and unspoiled. The daughter I have always wanted to share my womanhood with. What marvelous experiences you are to have today and the rest of the week! I know we have all the equipment and also all the expertise we need right here in your boudoir. But there is nothing to match the feelings you will get in an actual professional Beauty Salon. Besides, you have never been to a Beauty Salon as a client. So you are a Beauty Salon Virgin! Well, I don't think you will lose your virginity at the salon, but you will lose any lingering maleness the first time the dryer is lowered over your rollered head. The girls at the salon are so looking forward to meeting you and ministering to you. "So, eat a slice of toast, you have to always be aware of your girlish figure, and let's get you to the salon. That flirty ponytail will have to go. Today you will leave the salon curled, coiffed, sprayed as befits a daughter of mine. Your natural sandy hair color is nice but what do you think about being a platinum blonde? Like they say, Blondes have all the fun. Well, we will see. Maybe not today but you have a thrilling 18 months ahead of you with you being as womanly as you can be every minute of those months. "Now get your coral lipstick, such a becoming color for a fresh young lady, and I have a present for you. Put your lipstick into your new leather Coach bag. I thought the golden roses being used as clasps made this bag so much more feminine than the usual Coach leather bag. Besides your lipstick, I am sure we will find many new things today to fill it with wonderful girly treasure. I put a compact in there too. I bet you will want to check your lips before we go into the salon. After all first impressions are what make the girl. "Isn't Grace just so lovely? You and her will have such a nice time together at least for these next 18 months. And you will especially love having her tonight when it comes time to set your hair like you will have to do, or have done for you, every night for the next 18 months. I thought and you and I could do that chore each night but it is so much nicer to have one's own Ladies Maid for that ritual. "Now, off to the car with you. Shoulders straight, boobs up and out, confident in your heels, swishing your skirt! Oh, I love you, Jim, er, Wendy!" My first time outside the house dressed as the woman I had trained to be. I was young and fresh and, if I do say so myself, more to the pretty side than not. That compact in my new purse is going to get a good work out. Straight to the car, sitting in front next to Mother. The seat belt is all new to me. Now the strap goes across my chest and defines the valley between by large breasts. Just a new feeling! I flip down the makeup mirror in front of me and WHAM, there is a pretty young lady staring back at me with mascaraed lashes and shimmering coral lips. The car hasn't even started and already I am searching through my purse for my lipstick. After all, what use is a mirror if you don't utilize it. Mother got behind the wheel and laughs out loud at the sight of her son, her new daughter, daintily applying another unnecessary coat of girlish coral lipstick to a set of extremely smiling womanly lips. Thank you, Doctor, you sure the hell know how to plump up a girls lips. So sexy! "I think you are REALLY going to enjoy the salon!" My Fair Lady Salon and Spa catered to the affluent woman of an age that indicated that precision and high style trumps artsy and hip. You knew as soon as you saw the gleaming red varnished door and the lush drapes in the windows that this was no "dye your hair magenta and pierce your nose" joint. Women going to My Fair Lady Salon and Spa knew that, if at all possible, given what they had to work with, they would leave the Salon looking like they had spent a small fortune on making themselves as beautiful as possible. And this beauty wasn't to please their husbands, Oh No! This type of beauty was what was necessary to move in the high society circles all these ladies were accustomed to traverse. My Mother was an excellent example of that breed. And I loved her for it. Six months ago I would have remarked to Mother that she must have just come from the Salon because every hair was aligned and each swath of paint was perfectly applied. Now something was about to happen that I would have never, ever thought of six months ago. As soon as I walked through that gleaming red door, I would become just like my Mother. I would be beautiful, more beautiful than the wildest dreams that had grown in my head over the past six months. All the time I had spent learning to beautify other women and men, and I had never been allowed to become what I knew so well. As Mother parked close to the front door of the Salon, I did exactly what she said I would probably do. I put the makeup mirror down one more time and dug my lipstick out of my purse and just for the sheer joy of doing it, I reapplied a coat of Coral Sunset (Chanel). I doubted that I would leave the Salon wearing anything near that color of coral. It was really strange. I had lived my last six months in beauty salons. I was a trained beautician and hairstylist. I had trained under a very strict Dominatrix to be perfectly capable of transforming the most hideous male into either the woman of his dreams or the fulfillment of his worst nightmare. But now I was to be on the receiving end of those feminine procedures. My knees were shaking, making walking in my new escadrilles a challenge. Mother came round to my door and opened it for me. She reached in and took my hand and gently helped me out of the car. As we stood there, gazing at that red door, I felt her arm go around me and her hand softly caress my new right breast. "Well, Wendy darling, let's show you what being a real woman is all about." With Mother's arm around me, we walked slowly to the door. Just as we got to the door, it opened and a beautiful young woman about my age came through the door on five inch stilettos. Her hair was an exquisitely constructed cascade of luxurious blonde curls. Her nails sparkled with long talons coated in Fuck Me Red. Her face was a vision of subtle intertwined colors, blended to perfection, with brows and lashes to die for and large full cupid bow lips precisely coated with smooth, sensual color, the same as on her nails. She knew my Mother and they stopped to talk. I stood there, mesmerized at the woman before me. I was introduced to her as "My new daughter, Wendy. This is her first time at My Fair Lady." She gave me an air kiss on both cheeks and said: "Enjoy your first time, Wendy. See you next week, Darling!" With that, Mother guided me into the Salon. Though I was very familiar with the sights and sounds and smells of a salon, this time everything struck me head on as new and enticing and strangely compelling. There was a reception desk, staffed by similar creatures to the one we just met at the door. Along one side were the styling stations and shampoo sinks. Further on were a row of somewhat sinister 1950's style stainless steel torpedo shaped driers. Along another wall were the places of nail procedures. Pedicure thrones and manicure desks and a wall of thousands of small bottles of every nail color known to woman.There was a walk way leading to private rooms where God know what tortures could be done to me in the name of female beauty. All this was wrapped in pink and maroon silk brocade walls and furnishings. The staff was all in pristine white uniforms, white frilly silk blouses and cool white harem pants, set off at the waist with a loose gold chain belt. Each of the staff were wearing four inch gold pumps. All the staff seemed to be women, save for one lone male, who was also dressed exactly the same. He was smiling, and handled the four inch pumps with skill, as he rolled a precise row of curlers onto a woman about my Mother's age. Mother followed my eyes. "That is Mikey. He will be doing your hair. Most of the girls love to have a Sissy doing their hair. Sissies have such a flair for haute coiffure. And are somewhat less gentle and more energetic in doing tight roller sets. He will give you the most sexually provocative shampoo, set, and style that will wet the pussy of any woman." We approached the reception desk and the girl behind the counter raised her eyes and gave a long stare at my coral bra which was very evident through my sheer pink blouse. Don't know if she was coveting my bra or my boobs. Whichever it was, I stood a little taller and thrust out my girls to their fullest extent. That was fun! "Ah, the Lamb ladies! Right on time! I believe your appointment is with Mikey to start. He will be with you very shortly. Please step into the dressing room and remove all your clothes except your bra and panties and girdle. There are a gown and slippers in the dressing room for you to wear to be more comfortable during your day with us. Have fun, Ladies! And, Wendy, you will look absolutely divine when you leave My Fair Lady!" Mother guided me to the dressing rooms. There were several and the one closest to the dryers had a small sign in a holder next to the louvered door: Reserved for Wendy Angelina Lamb. We went into the dressing room with a small smile on our lips. Mother helped me disrobe of the few thing I had worn to the salon and she affectionately patted my girdled rump. This was the first time she had seen me in a girdle. I sat on the brocade upholstered Queen Anne chair and Mother rolled my thigh highs off my legs. For never having worn hose before, I felt strangely naked without them. Mother lifted the gown off the hanger. It was pale pink silk with a deep scoop neck line which just covered my bra. It was slightly shorter than knee length and flared in a flirty manner over my rear. It was very comfortable and I could just picture myself reclining back to be shampoo and worrying that my skirt was raising up too high. Mother positioned the pink silk mules with a fluffy white pompom on each vamp and three inch heels on the floor and I stepped into them like a pro. I was ready to step out into the salon and into my new life as a woman. Mother was going to accompany me through each assault by frenzied beauticians. Though I well knew what was happening, this was the first time it was happening to me. I needed her to hold my hand. We opened the door and moved to the styling station where Mikey had a big grin from sissy ear-ringed ear to sissy ear-ringed ear. His earrings were actually very cute and set off his marcelled waves very nicely. Mother introduced me to Mikey and he gave me the traditional double air kiss and stepped back to appraise what he had to work with. He immediately attacked my crunchie bound ponytail and quickly hand fluffed my hair which hadn't been cut in seven months. "Ah, my darling, it is good that you have the proper length. Let me tell you that as soon as I saw you, a vision of Doris Day from the late 50's popped into my head. A modified bouffant with depth and height which will frame your lovely eyes and lips. A very structured do that will required precise rolling and a boat load of hairspray. But I have to tell you that such a vision simply has to have the proper feminine color to pull it off. With your Mother's permission, today you will walk out of My Fair Lady Salon as a 2015 version of Doris Day at her finest as a platinum blonde hottie." Mother agreed. Mikey directed me to the shampoo chair. I leaned back as he lowered the back of the chair and positioned my head into the wash basin. After washing hundreds of heads, another first for me, my hair being washed in a beauty salon. Such a sensual pleasure! Even more thrilling was allowing my eyes to gaze down over my reclining body and having a hard time seeing over my breasts which were proudly jutting upward in twin peak glory. I thought to myself that this is what a woman sees when I wash her hair. Just the naturalness of being a woman in a beauty salon. What could be more natural for a female. Now it would become natural for me. Just as an aside: have you ever wondered what thoughts are going through the mind of a woman as she drives to the beauty salon? Does she think of being pampered and curled and toasted and painted? Does she think to herself that, Wow!, I am going to have tight curlers put into my hair and I am going to be put under a frightening dryer to bake slowly like a flounder? Imagine the feelings you would have if you were driving to the beauty salon for yourself. Awesome! Is it better to be a man thinking about these wonderfully terrifying things or to be a new woman having these unbelievably sexy things happen to you? I vote for making an appointment at the Beauty Salon right now, whether you be a woman or a man. You deserve it! Mikey was so gentle with me since it was my first time. The shampooing was so relaxing, his fingers kneading and caressing my hair and scalp in a way that it had never been done before. I could have laid their for hours, dreamily luxuriating at his finger tips. But there was work to do. Today I was to become beautiful! "Ok, Wendy darling, up you go and over to the styling chair. Your Mother has told me that you will be having your hair set in rollers every night, What a thrill for you! That being the case it doesn't seem that you will be doing too much in the way of casual hair styles. You are obviously going to be wash, set, spray girl, so you will have to have a cut which allows a structured hair style. So let's do a very little trimming and shaping and you will be ready for the dyeing process. We will not do a perm today. Mustn't do a perm and a dye job at the same time, too many chemicals. But maybe next time we can get more daring. You would look simply so Parisian with a perm." Mother perched on the styling chair from the next station, intent on not missing a second of her son's WOT. It was comforting to have her there. I guess I was having the same experiences that a mother usually shares with her 12 year old budding daughter. Thanks to The Will, Mother has the unique experience of shepherding her brand new 26 year old daughter through these mysteries. Obviously there is a first time for everything. I sat very upright in the styling chair. Truth be told, I enjoyed seeing my reflection, especially the reflection of my new bosoms in the mirror behind the styling station. It was going to be a while before I got over the shock of seeing those hooters jutting out from my body. Mikey approached me with scissors and comb. "Relax, Princess, I won't hurt you! Just a few snips to get the length and shape right. Then we will go on to the dyeing. You are going to look so cute with tinfoil all over your head. Going from your mousey brown to platinum blonde is going to take a great deal of skill. And I happen to have a great deal of skill in making girls, and boys, happy with their dye jobs. And even happier, especially the boys, with their set and style. Usually the boy's mothers make them come to me. But I can tell that secretly, as the first roller is positioned tightly against their scalps, the initial belly aching they do, gives way to a wonderment and enjoyment very fast, which they try to hide. Can't hide that thrill and yearning from Old Mikey!" Mikey's hands and scissors flew over my head. He was true to his word. Not much was cut off. But already I would feel a softer, more feminine bounce to my locks. Mikey had me shake my head in various directions to be sure the hair swung properly. It was new to me that I could flip my hair out of my eyes with just a small movement of my neck and head. Mikey was a genius. With a few snips, he had made my hair feminine. Mother laughed as she saw her here to fore son, practicing a femme fatale's sexy toss and tuck behind my ears. Now I was totally relaxed and into the moment. I desired nothing more than to have Mikey and his colleagues make me as beautiful and glamorous as the Doris Day he had in mind from the 50's. What the hell, I loved old Doris Day movies. Now I could live that life. If you look up images of Doris Day you will see thousands of images, with almost image having a different hair do. The woman must have spent all her time in the beauty salon. Now, at least for the next 18 months, I may just find out how Doris did it. Mikey used the Double Process method to dye my hair because I was going so much lighter than my original hair color. This involved bleaching my hair before adding the desired color to emulate Doris' platinum shade. A lot of time was spent with my hair in tinfoil layers under the dryer. I didn't count this as my first time under the dryer. The first time would come very shortly when my new blonde locks were correctly and tightly rolled and I took my place with the other ladies, imprisoned in a cone of heat, awaiting the sexy vixen within us to be released. The dyeing process took a good long time. But it was worth every minute. even without styling, I could see that my new color would give me all the confidence I was going to need to succeed over the next 18 months. One more vestige of what had been my male self had now vanished under the skilled coloring brush of the Sissy Mikey. There could now be no mistaking of the gender of the person who sported such a shiny, luscious, could only be female, blonde shade. Think, dear reader, how you would feel if you knew that from that minute forward your hair color, along with the D cups you now sported, announced loudly that if you were once a man, you were now no such thing. I have the feeling that blondes do have more fun. Mother closely inspected the dye job. I think it met with her approval. She was smiling so lovingly. It warmed me so to see her so happy. A new female pride pushed my chest out under the gown and I stood, confidently, on my mules. "OK, Mikey, you little Sissy, they tell me you are pretty good at making women beautiful. Show me!" "Wendy, darling, I just love working on a virgin like you. Everything I will do to you, it will be your first time. The dye job, that will be your foreplay. Really got you going, didn't it? That is the idea. When I am doing a virgin like you, I want to slowly control the intensity of your feelings. Little by little, the new feelings will grab you and excite you. You have never been a girl before. Sit back and enjoy what your Sissy can do for you. Each step will further arouse the female in you. Whenever I touch you, a spark will thrill you and you will ride those feminine feelings until, when I allow you to apply your own, luscious, sparkling, deep red lipstick, you will reach your first full female orgasm. I guarantee it!" I sat quivering, in the styling chair. Mother held my hand lovingly. I gazed into the mirror at my wet, new blonde locks and Mikey approached from the rear. Gently he ran a comb through my hair and a jolt of electricity ran through me. My hand jerked and Mother took charge and with a strong grip, made sure both y hands firmly held on to the arm rests. I remembered that at this point in my sissifying of reluctant males, I would usually use restraints on their hands and feet. All I needed was my Mother's love and determination. Her slightest touch bound her daughter to that chair. My womanly chest heaved with a tremendous sigh as Mikey sectioned a parcel of my hair, held it out and applied a generous amount of setting gel. Mother handed him a medium sized prickly roller and for the first time I felt the tension being applied to my hair and scalp as Mikey gently but firmly rolled the first curler of my womanhood snugly against my head. He held it for a moment, pressed to my scalp and then with a final twist, which produced an "Oh!" from me, he rammed home the anchoring pick with great glee and firmness. My first curler was driven home! "There, there, Wendy! That wasn't so bad, was it. I understand you are to go through this procedure every night for the next 18 months! You lucky, lucky girl! Now sit still as I cover your head in curlers. You know, I don't think there is anything as sexy as a blonde in curlers. Just something about all those uniform tight rolls of feminine blonde hair, neatly arranged to give the maximum curl and set. Simply gorgeous! It is almost a crime to have to take those rollers out to achieve your style. Maybe I should start a new fashion trend. Rollers all the time!" As each second went by, my head ached more and more with the pressure and pull for all those rollers. Mikey was right. I was to spend a great deal of my time being rolled and set and sleeping in these things. For some reason that thought did not bother me. It thrilled me! Mikey was also right about the look of the curlers on my head. Tremendously sexy in those neat rows, knowing under those rollers were curls anxious to be set free or to be styled within an inch of their lives. Never in my 26 years of male life had I felt such an overwhelming happiness. As I remembered how my unwilling subjects had screamed and cried at having this same procedure done to them as was being done to me now, I sat back and thought to myself: Make them tighter! Put more curlers in! I want to feel this way! Then I thought, as the almost last roller was positioned, next comes the dryer! Mother put in the last roller at the nape of my neck. As soon as she put it in, she put her hands on the side of my head and pressed the rollers into my scalp very strongly. Thousands of little pricks found their way into my head. Mother had specifically asked Mikey to use prickly rollers for my first set. She wanted me to feel the pain of being beautiful. She continued to press down on the curlers and brought my head back to rest in her bosom. She brought her head down and pressed it into the crown of my rollers, creating a complete round of pain. She then released me and kissed the top of my curled head. Then she picked up a black hair net and covered my rollers very tightly, tying off the net in the back to make it ever so snug. The black net on top of my rolled blonde hair looked very sexy and feminine. Oh, my God, I thought, each night for the next 18 months I would go through this procedure and then have to sleep in them. Mikey stepped forward from behind me and took both of my hands and pulled me out of the styling chair. Mother took my arm and Mikey took the other one. "Let's put this young lady under the dryer!" Slowly and triumphantly they led me straight through the Salon, with women applauding on every side. I walked as confidently as I could in my high heel mules and allowed the pride that was in me to push out my chest and my new girls to their fullest extent. We arrived at the dryers and I was turned around and positioned with my back to a huge, stainless steel, torpedo shaped, 1940's monster. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that there was an older woman already seated under her dryer to my left and a younger woman, a late teen girl really, was being dried under a similar dryer to my right. She looked like she might be getting spruced up for a Prom or such. Both of these women were eyeing me intently as Mikey guided me to sit in the chair. After I had sat down and arranged the skirts of my gown and made sure my bra was working to it's fullest capacity, I Iooked up and saw that Mother was slowly lowering this frightening contraption down to encompass my whole head. When she had lowered it as far as she wanted, only the lower part of my eyes and my painted lips could be seen. The feeling was astounding! I had arrived at the pinnacle of womanhood. This lovely young woman, ME, was sitting under a torturous salon dryer, between two dryer buddies, about to have a head full of exquisite curls baked onto my womanly head. I was in girly heaven. Mother patted my knee and flipped the switch. A powerful motor revved up and immediately super hot air blew around my head and I almost felt as if I were being electrocuted. My hands gripped the arms of the chair and my body bolted straight and taut. My breasts strained with in my bra and my nipples became very erect. I had done this to unwilling men, but now I knew some part of what they must have felt. They probably hated it. I love it! Slowly, I relaxed with my thoughts and my body sank, blissfully, in the seat and I let the machine do it's wonderful thing. I could hear nothing under the dryer but my own beating heart. At that moment that was what I wanted, needed, desired, craved, begged for. I was there and I was a woman! I could see Mother's lovely lips moving. And I could read her lips. "Nails now, Wendy, Darling!!!!!"